‘Well, blow me down,’ old Eli muttered, sucking his teeth.

It took me a moment to work out why the sight of those two cars, one after the other, struck me as slightly absurd, even comical. On one hand, there was nothing really wrong with showing off a bit, was there, if you had the money? There was no law against it, after all. But to buy matching sports cars? In red? After a war when everyone had been required to tighten their belts? Did the Blackmans have no idea how others might judge them? Did they even care? It wasn’t just ordinary showing off; it was the equivalent of shouting, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ in the loudest, most vulgar way. Like spoiled children.

I watched Jimmy destroying the daisy chain I’d made, as he tried to add more flowers to the links. ‘I can hardly believe what we’ve just seen,’ I said at last.

‘Nowt so queer as folks,’ Eli commented drily.

Jimmy brought his broken daisy chain back to me and I told him we needed ten more flowers, ones with long, thick stems, to mend it.

Eli relit his pipe. ‘Shall I tell you a story, Miss Molly?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Once upon a time,’ he began, ‘there was a little boy whose father was killed in the war.’

‘The last war?’

‘One afore. The Great War.’

‘Is his name Henry Blackman?’

‘Mebbe. Why don’t you decide, when I’ve finished? Well, his ma’s got problems – you know, up here.’ He tapped his temple. ‘Took her off to Severalls, they did, the asylum in Colchester.’

‘What happened to the boy?’

‘Got sent to a children’s home.’ He sighed. ‘But ’e never could get round the shame of it all, you know. Never went to see his ma – not once, as far as I know. She could be dead by now, of course. And he claims his pa died a hero in the first war but us old ’uns knows better. He was a travelling salesman, far as I know. Disappeared off the face of the earth. Anyroads, when the second war comes by, our lad turns out to be no hero, either. He got off the fightin’, claiming he’d poorly lungs.’

‘Did he? Have poorly lungs, I mean?’

‘Who knows, dearie? He gets himself a good little job trading cars, but when that falls flat, cos of petrol rationing, he borrows a bit of money and begins buying up bits of what everyone else thinks is wasteland. What everyone else doesn’t know, and he does, is that under that land is tons and tons of gravel. And gravel is what they’ll be needing. D’you know why?’

I shook my head.